


Guardian

by SolarMoon59



Category: Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angels, Drabble, M/M, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 17:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1313605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMoon59/pseuds/SolarMoon59
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel Alfred can't keep himself away from Ivan. Short drabble.<br/>America/Russia</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for my sibling's birthday, it has italics abuse, so beware.

A guardian angel’s job is to watch over their charge.  
What if the charge doesn’t want the angel?  
What if the angel wasn’t a “guardian” at all?

Rather, the angel just _thought_ they were?

Seeing the man _by chance_.

Meeting deep, violet eyes _by luck_.

Feeling his heart soar _by fate_.

Somewhere in his mind Alfred _knew_ this was wrong. It was stalking it was _harassment_ it was _obsession_ over a human that was in despair, was in turmoil, was _beautiful_.  
And that little bit was unable to override the angel’s intense interest in the Russian man that was doomed to failure: his _pursuit_ , his _property_ , his _love_. It had blossomed so quickly so abruptly that his chest burst on single thoughts that ran through his brain, poking and prodding at the edges of his mind and _pushing_ Alfred to follow to lie to _love_.

At first it was obvious things Alfred would notice, Ivan’s slouched posture, his messy home, his bewitching _body_. Then he continued to watch, continued to follow, continued to _learn_.  
Alfred came to realize there was so much _more_ to Ivan then what he knew at first glance. Now he saw the quirks, the oddities, the _routine_. He knew how Ivan played with the frayed ends of his scarf when he was nervous, how his head inclined slightly mad when he was pissed, how he dug nails into his fist to draw blood to _control_ himself.

Slipping out of heaven simply to _see hear feel_ the man was _easy_. Lying to the higher-ups was _easy_. Convincing Ivan to feel the same way… _not_ easy.

He would tell him to _leave_ and Alfred would _stay_. He would tell him to _shut up_ and Alfred would _keep talking_. He would try to _hit_ him and Alfred would _take it_.

Then sometimes, when Ivan was too tired to yell at him, when he was too upset to _care_ ; Alfred would _gently_ wrap the large man in feathery _soft_ wings, arms wound around the Russian’s _muscular_ chest, whisper that everything would be _okay_ , that Alfred was there for _him_ , and lull him slowly into a _dreamless_ and _deep_ sleep.

And that was _okay_.


End file.
